The Thing with Dryads
by neuroticmango
Summary: Where a conversation with a dryad leads to the a contemplation of insanity. Merlin is talking to a tree, how in Camelot's name is that not mad? A one-shot fic featuring a panicked Arthur, a flustered Gwaine, and Merlin being his fantastic self.


A/N: Okay, so this story idea totally came to me during class. We were covering definitions of abnormality in psychology and the teacher made an offhanded comment about how a person talking to a tree would be considered mentally ill, and I just sat there in my seat like _that's has a potential to be a cute drabble right there_. I wrote the first half of the dialogue right then and there, and when I finally found time to type it up, I guess it kind of... grew into this. Oh well. One-shot it is.

Enjoy reading!

* * *

"He's not mad," Gwaine says idly to Arthur, as if he were commenting on the weather instead of the decidedly mad scene before them.

"He's talking to a tree," replies Arthur, but the grip on his sword hilt lessens and his posture relaxes. "No sane person talks to trees."

Gwaine sends Arthur a look. Arthur, in turn, matches it with his own imperious one that says _I am the King, don't question what I say. Also, Merlin is the only one who can get away with impertinence so you ought to be careful in what you say next_. He is of noble blood - nay, he is royalty personified - so he can easily relay so many words with just one smooth slide of the eyes. Gwaine, for his part, understands what Arthur is silently telling him but, as he is Gwaine, he refuses to acknowledge it.

"Merlin is magic," he says. "I bet he talks to trees all the time."

"Yes. Well," Arthur stutters, only he does not _stutter_ per se. The King does not stutter. He pauses purposefully to further clarify his meaning. "He still looks mad, doing that. Does he have to do it in public? I can't be seen putting up with this lunacy. If the court hears of this, it will only be a matter of time before the council finds out, and they will begin to question my authority and ability to rule this kingdom. I can't be dethroned so soon after my coronation!"

"You were crowned three years ago, Arthur."

"Exactly. I have so many things to do before I can step down and let my heir do as he pleases."

"And you don't have an heir, as of yet."

"I'm certainly trying. Gwen is just as upset as I am about that."

Arthur is still looking at Merlin with a critical eye, though once he realizes how much he has revealed to Gwaine, he sputters (with the right amount of decorum befitting his station) and feels treacherous heat on his cheeks. He clears his throat loudly and glares at the laughing knight. "I still don't see why Merlin can't talk to his tree in private."

Gwaine waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "It's not _his_ tree, my lord. I doubt being of magic entitles you to the very trees of the land. And it might prove a bit difficult, seeing as trees are mostly found outside... where the public can see them."

"Now you're just being difficult," grumbles Arthur.

"Also, trees are immovable, aren't they? You can't just uproot a tree as you do. You might be king of pretty much everything, Arthur, but trees in general do not up and move themselves to private chambers whenever you need their advice."

Arthur eyes narrow as he watches Merlin cast a spell. "I wouldn't be quite sure about that..." he tells Gwaine.

The man, thankfully, shuts up and turns quickly enough to witness the oak tree shimmer like a mirage and, one blink later, out steps a dainty fae creature. A very naked fae creature, with skin as dark as tree bark and hair with the consistency of leaves. Arthur, noticing the open mouthed expression Gwaine is sporting, sharply elbows him on the ribs and hisses at him to behave more like a knight of Camelot instead of a simpleton who never before has lain eyes on a woman.

"But," Gwaine says hoarsely, "she was a tree."

"Yes, she was," confirms Arthur. He watches carefully as Merlin offers the fae creature his cloak, ready to spur into action if necessary.

"And now she's a person."

"It appears so, yes."

The fae woman and Merlin move to approach Arthur and Gwaine, and the two armored men swiftly shake off their surprise. Each adopt expressions of neutrality. Merlin introduces the tree-turned-woman like an old friend, and heretofore she offers her hand in a strange gesture of greeting.

"My lady, I am Arthur Pendragon," the king says as he bows his head.

The tree fae's brow crinkle in confusion but accepts Arthur's words, and then she turns to the stunned Gwaine. He bows his own head and attempts to say _Gwaine, at your service_ but instead his lips form "I'm not mad."

Merlin snorts and says to the woman tree, "That's Gwaine. Don't mind him, he'll make sense eventually."

Gwaine shakes his head, heedless of what Merlin is saying. "I'm talking to a tree and I'm not mad because it's magic and magic is perfectly logical in a non-logical way," he mutters. Beside him, Arthur barks a laugh.

"Gwaine, my friend," he says through his laughter, "you're not mad because you're talking to a former tree. But, you know what they say..."

"What?" he growled, glaring at the great monarch who is meant to unite Albion under one rule. Right now, he looks like a gleeful child instead of the stately king Gwaine has sworn fealty to all those years ago.

"Talking to yourself? It's the first sign of insanity."

**End**

A/N: This work is unbeta'd, so sorry for any mistakes. Thanks for reading!


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